I'm Just Another Teenage Psychic
by Becky Sky
Summary: Kalyca means Rosebud in Greek, but this descendant of Theseus the Fighter is all thorns! She has to deal with a stepdad who doesn't get her, a maybe boyfriend, and monsters trying to kill her all the time, not to mention psychic powers! What a life! r
1. Teen Stuff

I'm… Just Another Teenage Psychic

**Disclaimer: I don't own Class of the Titans.**

**This story is dedicated to the Dragoness1992, because of her reviews and support. Thanks, Dragon, your help with this story was much appreciated! Becky **

Chapter 1: Teen Stuff

Okay, I'm going to start off this story short and sweet. My name is Kalyca, which means "Rosebud" in Greek. Ughh, my mom got all sappy and feminine when she named me. To get straight to the point, I'm nothing like the curvy, beautiful girl my name portrays me to be. I'm fifteen years old, and a junior in high school. I used to have fiery red hair like my mom, Theresa. But I dyed it a bright, hot pink. Mom freaked out when I came home from my friend West's place with my "beautiful fiery locks" all cut off, and my hair spiky and pink.

But I didn't care. I did it in a spiteful mood. She had just divorced my dad, and she expected me to take it well? Yeah, right.

Just so you know, I'm a rash, hot-headed person. If you get me mad, I let you know. But I do have a soft side, especially when it comes to cute guys. Which girl doesn't? I mean, it's perfectly natural. But what isn't natural is that I can read minds… gosh, what guy would date you if you went up to him and said, "Hey there, hottie, I can read your mind, and you like me. Wanna go out?"

I mean, he'd look at you like you were crazy and get the heck out of there. Okay, enough of me talking. Let's just get to the stupid story. I'll start on the day Mom and Dad divorced…

I woke up to the sound of Mom and Dad arguing. I sighed and covered my head with my pillow, trying to block out the noise. I could hear my kid brother, Joey, sniffling in the bedroom next to mine. I would have gone to him, but I was a bit scared. Lately Dad had gotten really daunting, raising his arm to hit Mom, but stopping when he noticed we were watching. I didn't want to be around when he crossed the line. I admit, I was ashamed of my cowardice, but who wants to get hit by their own dad?

When the arguing stopped, I cautiously got up out of bed, getting dressed in a simple tank top and pair of ragged jeans. I tiptoed out of my bedroom, and say Joey in the hallway, his big blue eyes wide and filled with tears. He was only six, and I thought my heart would break when he looked up at me, his sorrow apparent in his beautiful eyes.

"Mommy and Daddy… were fighting!" he blurted, and burst into tears.

"Oh, buddy," I whispered. I reached out my arms for a hug, and he ran into them, his whole body shaking. I gave him a huge hug, running my hand over his hair, angry at Mom and Dad for causing such a disturbance.

I sent Joey to his room and marched downstairs, furious, and determined to tell them exactly what I thought.

I stopped at the bottom of the stairs, gaping as I saw Mom and Dad in a full-fledged battle. My favourite lamp was in shatters at my feet, and the rug at the front door was crooked. I heard a smash as one of my mom's hairbrushes went flying through the air, nearly hitting me in the head. I rushed to the kitchen to see Dad hitting her repeatedly. I watched in horror, my eyes wide, and fear and anger coursing through my veins. Mom kicked him with one of the many karate moves she had taught me, and I heard him grunt. He fell, landing at my feet. He opened his eyes, looking right into mine. That was when they noticed me, their daughter watching as their marriage fell apart into shreds.

"Honey…" Dad's voice trailed off in despair.

"How… how could you? Both of you?" My voice shook with anger. "Don't you know how much you've hurt Joey?"

I would have added me, but I couldn't let them see how vulnerable I was. That was the way you survived in teenage life. Don't show weakness, no one will hurt you. What a lie.

"How could you do this to our family?!" I screamed, all my rage and frustration pouring out on them. "I thought you loved us!"

"I do…" Mom started.

"Shut the heck up!" I yelled, and the look of shock on her face nearly took all the words out of my mouth, but I kept going. "If you both really loved us, you wouldn't hurt each other, and make Joey and me part of your stupid, stupid, stupid fights, and your stupid, stupid, stupid lives!"

I ran out of the room, into the street. I didn't know where I was going, but I did know I wasn't going back. Ever.

I sprinted down the street, my tough-girl attitude deflating along with all my hopes for a quiet, normal family. I ran past benches and those skinny, half-dead trees you see in cities. Plopping down on one of those said benches under said trees, I closed my eyes and tried to collect my thoughts. I tried to think of beaches and palm trees, but it only made me think of the trip to Florida we'd probably never be able to take. I clenched and unclenched my fists, determined to keep my cool this time. Tears trickled down my cheeks as I thought of all those times when Daddy had held me in his arms, and played board games with me, singing and laughing. How could he do this to me? Had all my life been a lie? Had everything in my life just been a fake, something that I had imagined?

"Excuse, me, do you know where 56 Freemen Lane is?"

I looked up to see this good-looking guy staring down at me. Why was he asking where my house was? Suddenly I had a nagging suspicion… was this Mom's new boyfriend? Had she been cheating on my Dad? I glared at the stranger through narrowed eyes.

"Who wants to know?" I asked rudely. The guy looked surprised at my personal attack.

"My name is Jay Denfield. I'm looking for Mrs. Theresa Jennings. I'm an old friend of hers. From high school." His chocolate brown eyes stared at me curiously. He had brown hair and a strong, narrow chin. I could imagine Mom and him as a couple. I shook the thought away, but it remained in my mind, haunting me.

"An old boyfriend?" I blurted out. He looked uncomfortable.

"Ummm…"

Hah. I knew it. Some old high school flame wanted to hook back up with her. Not if I could help it.

"Sorry. Don't know. Don't care. Go ask someone else, or get outta town, mister."

He looked flabbergasted by my vulgar behaviour. Then he nodded stiffly and walked away down the road, his tall figure retreating quickly.

I smiled in satisfaction. No hunk would ruin my family anymore than it was already ruined. Maybe, just maybe, we had a chance to repent and go back to the way we were.


	2. Jay Denfield, Not my Dad

Chapter 2: Jay Denfield, Not my Dad

After the encounter with Jay Denfield, I decided to head back home, hoping to reconcile with Mom and Dad. As I approached our two storey townhouse, I frowned. Dad's red truck was out of the driveway, and that's not right. Usually he stayed home on Saturdays, watching football (which I consider a waste of time) or playing poker with friends.

I began to run, my heart (sappy, I know, but hey, people in fairytales follow their hearts, and everything is all right in the end) telling me something was wrong.

When I rushed through the door I saw Mom hugging- you guessed it- Mr. I'm-Just-A-Friend Denfield.

"What the heck is going on here? Where is my dad?" I yelled. Mom stopped hugging Mr. D to stare at me, wide-eyed. I noticed that she had a horrible purple bruise on her cheek, and she turned away so I wouldn't see it. But it was too late. I had seen it all too well, the symbol of Dad's anger.

"He's… he's," she faltered, "Gone."

That stunned me. He had just up and left, never even saying good-bye? I glared at Mr. D, who stared down at me in surprise. "You," he said.

"Yeah, me," I said. "What are you doing here? Mom's married, you know."

The guy looked flustered. "We- uhh-"

"Are just friends," I said sarcastically. "I've heard it all before."

He blushed.

"Honey, please give Jay some respect," Mom intervened, and for the first time I realized that she was tired and angry. Her eyes flashed and I knew she was going to send me to my room.

But she didn't. She just collapsed on out red couch and began to cry. My heart went out to her, and I went over and sat beside her, putting my arm around her shoulder.

"I'm glad he's gone," she sighed.

I gasped. That was all I could take. "How could you say that? Don't you remember all the good times we had? Don't you remember the joy we all once shared?"

I glared at Jay, my eyes full of venom.

Then I ran out of the room- again, leaving my mom to cry with Mr. D there to comfort her. I dashed towards West's house. He lived a few blocks down, on the waterfront in a huge million dollar house. West was what you call a heartthrob, and usually he had groupies surrounding him, but he always had time for me. Always.

As I rang the doorbell, the maid, Lela, opened it, admitting me into the sitting room, where West sat with his father, Neil, listening to one of his tutor's drone on and on about something called guacamole. I think it's some kind of vegetable, but _whatever_. Like, I mean, what does guaca-whatever-it-is have to do with anything?

Neil glanced up, and I could see the relief in his eyes. "Oh, good, Kalyca, you're here," he said, as though he had been expecting me.

"West, can I talk to you?" I begged. He nodded his handsome auburn head and stood up.

We rushed off to his private sitting room. "Thanks for getting me outta there," he panted.

"No problem." We reached his little room, and I collapsed on one of the small green couches. He sat on a small red chair across from me, crossing his legs and sitting forward eagerly. It was kinda creepy. He was acting like a psychologist, not a teenager listening to his best friend.

"Okay, enough with the acting like a shrink thing," I said, but a smile played across my lips. He always knew how to make me laugh, and that's what I liked about him. Oh, not liked-liked, just so you know. Just a friend. I think.

He grinned, and sat back, more relaxed. "Okay, what's up?"

"Dad's gone."

He sat bolt upright, and I thought I had shot him by the pained look on his face. "Gone?" He looked so sad I wanted to hug him, but I didn't dare. He wouldn't have appreciated me treating him like a little kid.

I nodded, my big gray eyes filling with tears. "He just left, or so Mom says. But then I come home and she's hugging this other guy like she'll never let go. I don't know what to think anymore."

West closed his eyes, thinking. "You know what, you don't deserve this garbage. You should be able to relax for once." He opened his eyes, mischief glittering in his big blue eyes. "Let's do something drastic."

"Like?"

He grinned wickedly. "Haircut!"

My hand flew to my long fiery hair. "Oh, no," I said. "You are kidding, right?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "Do I look like I'm joking?" he asked.

I shrugged. "No," I said meekly. "But I've had this hair forever. How can I just cut it off?"

"You can dye it too. Hot pink."

Oh man, he knew my weakness. I loved the colour pink. Not floral pink, hot pink. Beautiful hot pink. It echoed my boisterous attitude.

"Fine," I said reluctantly. "Just as long as you're not the one cutting it."

He laughed. "No worries. After the incident with scissors in the second grade, I haven't touched scissors since."

It's true, too. Whenever he has an assignment involving scissors, one of his servants does the cutting for him.

And you don't want to know what happened in second grade. Let's just say that he had to go home early because of a problem with his pants. That's all the info I'm giving out. Ughh, I shudder thinking about it.

We quickly went to his huge dressing room, where servants guided me over to one of the high chairs. "A spiky cut and hot pink dye," West ordered.

As the stylist began to cut off my fiery strands, I began to like the cut more and more. Mom would freak when she saw it, but what did I care? I was way too mad at Mom right then to consider her feelings. I guess it runs in the family.

Halfway through, I closed my eyes, so I could surprise myself at the end.

Finally, half an hour later, with a tap on my shoulder from West, I opened my eyes to see my new style. When I saw it, I screamed in surprise. It was so different! My hair was cut close to my head, and was spiked in the back, giving me the punk rock look. The bangs were longer in the front, and were still my natural red colour. I whipped my head around, letting my bangs get in my face.

"I love it!" I exclaimed, overwhelmed. I leaned over and planted a he kiss on West's cheek. Oh man. There goes my I-don't-like-my-best-friend act.

He blushed as pink as my hair, but he was grinning.

"Wanna go out some time?"

Oh gods, was he kidding?

"Of course not," I snapped. "I did that because, umm, I was, er, overwhelmed by your kindness!"

I could tell he didn't believe me. I thanked the stylist and got out of West's house as quickly as I could. I could not take anymore of this awkward stuff.

I decided to go to my other friend Cindy's house. I went in without knocking. I walked in on Cindy and Josh, a guy from my school, watching TV together, cuddled on the teal blue couch. We gaped at each other, her at my hair, and me at the fact that she had a boyfriend. Josh looked from one to the other and quickly said he had to use the washroom, leaving us to a standoff. Gee, thanks Josh, you really helped. I would rather he had stayed, so I could just laugh it off and leave, but now I had to confront her, or else leave without saying a word and look like a jerk. And I didn't need anymore of that today.

**A/n: Please review! -Becky**


	3. More Teenage Drama

Chapter 3: More Teenage Drama

Cindy and I just stood there staring at each other awkwardly. Five minutes went by and I began to wonder what Josh was doing in the washroom. Finally I got so sick of the silence that I spoke.

After, that is, I had a bunch of thought that weren't my own. You see, I had begun to wonder what Cindy had been thinking, and suddenly, a whole bunch of thoughts exploded inside my brain: _Why isn't she saying anything? What's wrong with her? She can't be mad at her because I have a boyfriend, can she?_

I shook my head, amazed, and not a little scared. Gulping, I found my voice, even though it was shaking.

"So, you have a boyfriend," I said lamely. She shrugged.

"So?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at me. _I wish she would just go away._ That was the thought that hurt me most. Wincing, angry and upset, I turned and stalked out of the house, leaving her gaping after me. "I hope you got your wish!" I yelled over my shoulder.

As I continued walking down the drive, a bicycle bell rang out, and I sighed as West pulled alongside of me.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi."

We said nothing for a few moments, and then he started talking. "Listen, Kaly," he began. "What I said back there, I didn't mean to upset you-"

"It's okay, you didn't upset me," I assured him. "It's just that, well, with everything that's been happening-"

I stopped as something clouded my head, scenes and pictures that I couldn't account for. _It was West, Cindy, and I fighting a bunch of giants, who raised clubs to bash us. Seven adults, including Mom, her __**friend**__, and West's dad, tried to help. Also, five other kids surrounded us; taking turns batting at the giant as though it were a piñata._

The vision stopped, and I stumbled back in surprise. I turned to see West glancing at me in concern.

"You okay?"

I nodded, but my heart was beating rapidly. I tried to keep from gasping out loud and alerting him to my fears. I quickly brought the conversation around to something a bit more normal… just to get it away form me.

"I'll take your offer for a date," I rushed. "Meet you at the diner Monday after school."

Before he could react, I hurried away towards home, hoping to sneak in unnoticed.

Sadly, West's family's luck wasn't on my side. As I entered through the front door, Mom was waiting for me. She let out a scream of horror at my hair, bringing Mr. D running in from the kitchen, Mom's small pink apron strung around his waist. Any other time, I would have burst out laughing at a guy in a pink apron, but this only meant Jay was sticking around for awhile.

I crossed my arms and gave her a defiant stare as Jay's jaw dropped in astonishment. He and Mom exchanged looks, and as I glared at them, they came to a silent agreement.

"Grounded," they said in unison.

"What so, you're my daddy now?" I asked Jay sarcastically.

Jay met my eyes. My heart stopped beating for a moment.

Mom looked at me worriedly, her brow furrowed with lines. I suddenly noticed how old she looked. She was only thirty-seven years old!

"She needs to know, Theresa," Jay said. Mom nodded reluctantly, her green eyes filling with tears.

"First, listen to me, Kalyca. I love you no matter what, and I'm sorry I never told you…" Her voice trailed off, leaving me to wonder what she meant.

Jay cleared his throat, obviously nervous about how I might react to whatever news he was going to spill. Oh, well. It couldn't be any worse than I already knew.

Boy, I must have been soooo dumb!

"Kaly…" I grimaced at the nickname. Only West and Dad had ever called me that, and he wasn't either.

"…I'm your dad."

**A/n: Sorry for such a short chapter. Oh well, I hope you like it! Please review! Luv, Becky**


	4. Dad? And Explanations

Chapter 4: Dad…? And Explanations

I wish I could say that I took Jay's (I mean, _Dad's_) news well. I wish I could say I acted like a responsible, mature teenager, like Mom would have wanted me to. But I didn't. I handled it so bad the first thing I said was a question.

"Can I get a tattoo?" That says I don't know who I am anymore, I wanted to add.

Jay's shocked face, and Mom's terrified look started me giggling. I couldn't help it… they thought they had me all figured out, but the truth was, how could they when I had trouble doing that?

I hurried up the stairs, locking myself behind those big oak doors, and that's when I began to cry. Everything I had always known had been a lie. It only made me love the father I'd always known even more… he had raised kids that weren't his own, out of love.

But then it hit me… Joey had been born when I was seven, after Mom and Dad had married. Suddenly I felt unsure if dad had ever loved me… maybe Joey, but me, another man's child? Shaking in anger, I collapsed onto my bed, pounding my pillows viciously, as if I could rid myself of my pain the harder I hit.

Eventually I grew tired, and my eyes fluttered shut, and before I knew it, I had cried myself to sleep.

I woke up around eleven o'clock that night, sneaking downstairs to rummage through the fridge. As I entered the kitchen, I saw Jay sitting at the table, smudges under his eyes, and a coffee cup gripped in his hands. I turned to leave, trying to avoid him, but he noticed me there and started talking.

"You know, I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?"

"Dropping that bombshell on you," he explained.

I twisted to face him, confused. "You're actually _sorry_?"

"Hey, just because I'm an adult doesn't mean that I don't have feelings too," he pointed out.

I flushed in embarrassment. "I guess not," I agreed. "But just so you know, I'm not calling you Dad anytime soon."

I thought I saw a flash of sadness in his dark eyes, but then it was gone. "I wouldn't expect you to."

"So, how did, well, you and Mom break apart…?"

He sighed. "I guess we owe you an explanation. Honestly when I met you, I wouldn't have ever believed you were my daughter. You were so different than me and Theresa: sassy, rude, and pigheaded."

I blushed. "I guess those are… accurate," I admitted. I sat down across from him at the table, scraping the big wooden chairs across the tile floor.

He continued on. "Then when Theresa told me… I admit I was surprised. I didn't expect you to take it well. I'm sorry how this all turned out. I really only came to see her as an old friend. I didn't even know you existed."

"What?"

"By the time Tessie learned she was pregnant, we had broken up our relationship, and she had met your… dad. I was in college, and had another girlfriend, and she was in love again. We both had agreed to stay close friends, and I don't think she wanted to jeopardize what we shared, and what she shared with your… dad." He had a hard time saying it, and I didn't blame him. You come to visit a friend you haven't seen in years and learn that you're the biological father of her oldest child. That's enough to make anyone feel that they missed out on something big.

"So… what would you have done if you knew about me?" This was the big question. If he really loved me, he would have an answer ready. But as the silence wore on, a pit grew in my stomach. I silently begged him to say something.

Finally, he met my eyes. "I don't know," he murmured sadly.

Tears in my eyes, I got up and left the kitchen without another word, leaving my father, whoops, _Jay_, to drink the rest of his coffee alone.

**A/n: Sorry for the really short chapter. I'm pretty tired. Hope that clears up any questions you have… please read and review! Luv, Becky**


End file.
